The Dependable DI
by What's'SupWitChu
Summary: 5 times Lestrade was there for someone and the one time they were all there for him.
1. Sherlock

**Hello my lovelies! I have to admit it is only over recent weeks which I have realised how much I love Lestrade and so this is sort of my little homage to him. I hope you enjoy these stories and I apologise in advance for any issues with characterisation.**

**I would love to hear from you guys :) xx**

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**Sherlock**

Greg had finished a long shift and was on his way back home when he found the intoxicated man slumped against the grimy wall of a back alley, his head lolling about all over the place and a persistent shiver rattling his too thin of a frame. He didn't exactly look homeless though, and he seemed quite young. Although Greg's head was telling him he was exhausted and needed to go home, he found himself wondering over to the young man and addressing him gently.

"Are you alright, lad?"

The young man turned to look at him with clouded yet somewhat calculating eyes. His gaze swept over Greg just once, yet the Detective Inspector couldn't help but feel like he'd just undergone some kind of full body analysis.

"Are you going to arrest me?" He asked with a slight slur.

Greg raised an eyebrow in surprise; he wanted to ask how the young man had known he worked for the police, but that didn't seem the most relevant point of questioning now.

Why, do I have a reason to?" The DI inquired instead.

"No s'perfectly fine." the young man said, but Greg could clearly see he was barely conscious and in need of assistance.

"You're high." Greg stated, his tone neither condoning nor condemning. "You're also lucky I'm off duty." He crouched down in front of the young man. "What's your name?" He asked.

"Sherlock Holmes" the young man mumbled.

"Well, Sherlock. I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade, and I think it would be in your best interest to go home and we can regard this as a silly mistake, hmm?"

"Don't have one..." Sherlock said, and for the first time Greg realised just how pained the young man seemed. "Don't have a home."

"So, you're just out on the streets?" Greg frowned; his earlier conclusion was proved wrong. Sherlock just shrugged. "Well, I can't very well leave you out here in this state" the detective said. He saw no danger in Sherlock; he was just alone and in need of a little help. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"

"My brother" Sherlock responded. "But he's out of the country at the moment, but more importantly he's a complete idiot."

"Oh, so it's like that, huh?" Greg mused and then bit his bottom lip. "I suppose...you can stay at my flat tonight, we'll sort something in the morning."

"No, I don't need your pity" Sherlock practically spat, turning his head away.

"Well it was actually more of an instruction than a suggestion." Greg replied firmly "Like I said, I'm not going to leave you here to freeze to death or whatever. I'm not that sort of guy."

Sherlock turned to the Detective Inspector and looked calculating once more; it actually made Greg tense. Clearly no one had showed Sherlock such compassion before and he was trying to figure out if Greg was being genuine or not.

"Won't your wife mind?" Sherlock asked "you two tend to fight and you're probably too nice to knowingly upset her."

Greg blinked; there it was again, how had Sherlock known that? Perhaps he reckoned himself a psychic, but again Greg was more concerned with getting the young man out of the cold.

"Probably, but you just let me worry about her" he said with a soft smile. "Now, come on, let me help you up."

Greg traipsed Sherlock's arm around his shoulders and then held one arm firmly around the younger man's waist. He hoisted Sherlock up and they practically begin to stumble along the dark road. Greg ended up supporting most of Sherlock's weight (of which there was worrying little) back to his flat.

Luckily, Greg's wife was out with friends - at least that's what she said - for the evening, giving him time to get Sherlock settled on the sofa. He went to fetch blankets to help keep Sherlock warm and then went to make tea. He supposed the young man would be too nauseous to eat right then so vowed he would force Sherlock to have something later.

When Greg returned with the tea, Sherlock sat up, and whilst taking cautious sips his eyes were darting around the room processing things Greg could not personally see, and leaving the Detective Inspector knowing there was more to Sherlock than what met the eye.

"Deduction." Sherlock said after minutes of silence and it took Greg a moment to process he had actually spoken.

"Excuse me?" He asked, feeling slightly confused.

"You wanted to know how I knew you were a policeman and that you argue with your wife. I deduced them from your appearance and mannerisms."

The young man seemed a lot more together now that he was warmer and had a roof over his head. He also appeared quite well spoken, though with a name lie Sherlock, Greg had suspected he'd come from a higher class background.

"That's pretty impressive" Greg said, and he didn't miss the way Sherlock almost seemed to smile before he covered his mouth with his cup. "So you can deduce people...objects too?"

"Anyone, anything" Sherlock affirmed. "To me it's all so obvious and other people are just so plain ignorant, but it turns out in normal society I am the ignorant one." He said this with great resentment.

"Well, do let me apologise on behalf on the whole human race" Greg said mirthfully. "Although, may I ask, with a mind full of talent like that, why you would even consider risking it with drugs?"

Sherlock seemed to grow steely again at that, and for a moment Greg didn't think he'd answer him, but Sherlock set his tea down and took on a more serious position.

"My head is like a bank full of knowledge - or as I like to refer to it, a mind palace. I store every fact, every detail in there that I think will be of use, and delete those that I don't. Sometimes my head just feels so full of information and I don't know what to delete...so I need to escape that for a while."

Greg slowly absorbed this as he'd never heard anything like it before. Initially he felt the idea of having a mind place was perhaps a bit of pretentious exaggeration, but he could see Sherlock was extremely intelligent (and that was an understatement.)

"I could use a talent like that on the force" he said. "God knows I try to see cases from every different perspective, but I often miss something."

"You're a homicide detective, correct?" It sounded like a question but Greg could tell Sherlock knew he was right.

"Are you ever wrong?" he asked.

"No" Sherlock stated, and then seemed to drift a little as he pondered something. "Murder...that sounds ideal."

Greg's eyes widened in shock. "What?" He said bluntly.

"I mean I've solved the odd petty theft, disappearance, but never a nice gory murder."

"Yeah...that's not really how I would describe it."

Then Greg had a thought. Sherlock had some serious skill and he clearly needed a little support with the drugs, plus, his relationship with his 'idiot' brother probably wasn't the best either. Perhaps coming with Greg to the odd crime scene would be a good distraction. He seemed eager...perhaps a bit too eager given the subject, but Greg reckoned he could keep Sherlock in line.

Someone just needed to give Sherlock a chance as it had become apparent not many people would have offered him assistance before.

"How would you like to take a look at some case files for me?" Greg said as he rummaged around on the coffee table for a bit. "These have has me stumped for a while."

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, before taking the folders and flicking open the first one and saying about 2 minutes later "it was the jealous ex, obvious."

"Okay, now you're just showing off." Greg scoffed but it was in jest, though Sherlock looked like he was expecting him to say something more - something more hurtful. "However, very helpful." Greg added quickly and Sherlock seemed to relax again.

"I shall take a look at these crime scenes in the morning." Sherlock informed him. "A favour for letting me stay here, I hate feeling in people's debt. I expect no payment; I don't do this sort of thing for payment."

"Me either" Greg said, though he suspected for different reasons. "Anyway we'll see how things go. I'll leave you to rest."

He picked up the mugs to take back to the kitchen and Sherlock turned his back as he buried himself under the blankets.

Greg was left feeling very intrigued by Sherlock Holmes. The young man's view on the rest of society seemed quite bleak, and he did seem prone to saying controversial things, but Greg wasn't going to leave Sherlock to try and cope on his own anymore. Sherlock just needed a chance and Greg was more than willing to give it to him.


	2. Molly

**Thank you for following, favouriting, commenting and generally reading, I'm glad you liked the first story :) This time Greg talks to Molly. Hope you enjoy! (Be warned, I've never written Molly before XD). **

**Reviews would be much loved! X**

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**Molly**

Greg and Sherlock were in the morgue of St Bart's to examine their latest murder victim. Sherlock, as usual, was flying around the body muttering various deductions to himself whilst Greg stood back with Molly; he had learned to try and not get too involved when Sherlock was in his Brain Castle or whatever the hell it was.

"He's brilliant to watch, it's he?" Molly said as she looked a little wistfully at the consulting detective.

Greg turned to her with a raised eyebrow and then looked back to Sherlock with a slightly titled head. "Mmm, I don't think that's the word...but he's certainly one of a kind, I'll give you that."

"Gavin, what have I told you about wasting my time with such dull and obvious cases." Sherlock said, and he did indeed look very bored by the whole situation. "Go and arrest the wife, and don't bother me again until you find something that a mere imbecile couldn't solve"

"Yeah, thanks Sherlock" Greg said with a sarcastic smile.

Sherlock looked about ready to do his usual dramatic sweep out of the room when he looked back at Molly and frowned.

"You're wearing that lipstick again" he observed. "Actually, I think I liked your mouth better when it looked smaller" and then with a swish of his coat, he was gone.

Greg looked after him for a moment still astonished by Sherlock's plain ignorance to people's feelings. When he turned back he found Molly was already rubbing off the lipstick and looking a little down trodden.

"Are you alright?" Greg asked.

Molly nodded. "Yes, fine" she said in a very forceful manner. "I shouldn't be surprised should I" she added and then went over to the table to fill in her report.

Greg sighed and wondered for a moment if he should just leave. He didn't have any daughters of which to have the 'guy troubles' talk with and so knew that particular subject would not be his strong suit, but Molly was always sweet and she did blatantly pine for Sherlock to notice her; Greg couldn't leave her on her own to be upset.

"Okay, I've never done this sort of talk before but there's first time for everything" Greg confessed as he slipped the forms away from Molly so she had to look at him. "Sherlock can be a total prick...okay that's probably not the best start..."

"Sometimes I think that's true, though" Molly said in a huff.

"Well don't take it personally; he's like that with everyone. It's just the way Sherlock is, but I think John is slowly starting to open his eyes to sentimentality, just a little."

"I know, it's just...I wish he would take more notice of me, it's like he looks right through me sometimes."

Greg decided he was even less prepared for this kind of conversation than he initially thought. Eventually he just said "Well, I'm afraid that's just Sherlock. He's an arrogant disrespectful sod, believe me I, Gavin, should know." Molly smiled a little sympathetically at that, but Greg was pleased the talk seemed to be working. "But he needs people like us, like you, to help him become a more moral and understanding person. He won't ever say it because it's not in his nature, but you make him better."

"He thinks because he's good at reading people, he himself is unreadable." Molly stated. "But that's not true, I see how sad he gets when John's not there. I ask him if he's okay and he says he's fine, but I know he's lying. I say he can come to me if he needs anything, but he never does."

"Well, I think Sherlock values you more than you know" Greg said, and he said it genuinely and with confidence. "He just doesn't make it so…obvious. You know how much he hates the obvious."

"Yes, I suppose you're right" Molly conceded. "I guess with Sherlock you sort of have to persevere a little until he's ready to look to you on his own accord."

"Precisely" Greg said with a nod. "And you know, I bet when it matters, when it matters the most, Sherlock will come to you."

Molly looked a little shocked for a moment. "B-but he has John" she stuttered "What makes you say he'd come to me?"

"Well, I think to Sherlock, John is the thing that matters most. So if, God forbid, anything ever happened to John, or there was something Sherlock couldn't tell him because he'd be endangered or whatever, he would come to you. You're smart, Molly, and Sherlock likes that in a person."

Molly gave him a grateful smile, but then frowned a little. "You don't think he would turn to you?" she asked.

"Nah, he thinks I'm an imbecile if I correctly recall. Besides, I think my temper fuse is a little too short for his liking. I think he's afraid I'll actually send him to his room one day."

Molly laughed at that and Greg was pleased to see a smile back on her face. She didn't deserve to be sad, especially because Sherlock was being insensitive. Greg cared for the younger man dearly, but he could be a real pain in the arse…

"And you know what else" Greg added as an afterthought. "I don't think he's had many good experiences with people in general before, let alone women. It's probably quite new for him to be surrounded with people who don't think he's a…"

He was going to say freak, but he had silently vowed he would personally never refer to Sherlock in such away. He highly resented it whenever Anderson or Donavan called Sherlock that and there would soon be consequences if it didn't stop.

"…a bit unusual….okay maybe a lot unusual" he settled on instead.

Molly smiled at him knowingly; apparently Sherlock's unusual nature was something she was greatly drawn to, and Greg realised had been partly the same when he'd found Sherlock in that alley 5 years ago. They didn't want Sherlock to stop being Sherlock; just a little more sensitivity would suffice.

"Thank you, detective inspector" Molly said; any nervousness she had before seemed to have washed away. "It means a lot that you that you're so comforting."

Greg smiled at her. "Hey, anytime, it's no problem. I'm just glad I could be of some help when my own relationship seems to be in constant turmoil. Mmm, maybe I'm not the best person to give advice."

Molly opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment Greg's mobile started ringing. He delved into his coat pocket only to see who the caller was and roll his eyes.

"Speak of the devil" he mumbled as he answered Sherlock's call. "So you're the one bothering me now…whatever…can you hold on a minute…yes I can tell you what to do if you want my attention, so this is me, telling you what to do. Hold. On."

Molly couldn't help but giggle and Greg just looked exasperated as he held the phone to his shoulder so Sherlock couldn't hear. "I better go. We'll talk again soon, and not about work" he affirmed.

"Yes, that would be great." Molly said "Thank you again, detective inspector."

"You're welcome" Greg said with a smile and then started to walk to the exit before calling over his shoulder "And hey, how many times do I have to tell you? Please call me Greg! And yeah, can you please call me Greg too..." he added heatedly when he was back on the phone with Sherlock. "...because that's my name!"

Molly was left smiling.


	3. Mrs Hudson

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story! I really appreciate it. In this chapter Greg talks to Mrs Hudson and Sherlock gets taken down a peg or two, so I hope you enjoy! XD**

**(This was kind of inspired by a GIF I saw on Tumblr which pointed out that John and Sherlock always seem to look bored when Mrs Hudson is talking to them and actually Greg seems to politely listen to her.)**

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**Mrs Hudson **

When Greg went by to 221B one day to see if Sherlock had made any progress on a case he was surprised to find the younger man's landlady flittering around the place, a duster in her hand and a freshly brewed pot of tea on the kitchen table. She stopped when she noticed Greg standing in the doorframe.

"Hello, dear!" she smiled, her usually chirpy self.

"Hello, Mrs Hudson." Greg replied with a kind smile "Sorry for interrupting, I was looking for Sherlock and John."

"Oh, I'm sorry but they're out at the minute. John is at work and Sherlock…well who knows what Sherlock gets up to" she said with a flip of the cloth she was holding before cleaning down the kitchen table.

"You shouldn't be doing that for them" Greg told her seriously. "It's their responsibility if they don't want to live in complete squalor."

"I know, but it is still technically my flat and I do like things to be neat and tidy" Mrs Hudson said as she looked around the rest of the room. "I'm telling you, they act like they're typical teenage boys when it comes to getting the cleaning done."

"Ah, well don't worry; we're not all like that." Greg said as he leant against the door frame. "I think you'd be pleasantly surprised by how well kept my flat is" he said quite proudly.

"Oh I know, Detective Inspector, I've always had you pinned as one of the good ones" Mrs Hudson assured him and Greg couldn't help but feel smug. "Anyway, the only time I can get anything done without Sherlock complaining is when he's out, and John does make sure the rent gets in on time because of it."

"Well, I personally feel you're being far too kind to the lazy gits" Greg responded matter-of-factually.

"No, they're good boys really" Mrs Hudson said fondly as she went back to her dusting.

"I know, but they're not 'boys', and they should really learn to respect people like you and me" Greg said somewhat teasingly. "I think it's time you took a break, Mrs Hudson. I'll figure out a way to get the world's only consulting detective holding a sweeping brush."

"Well I'd be very impressed by that" Mrs Hudson giggled. "Alright, shall I pour us some tea...Oh! But If remember correctly you only drink coffee?"

"Yes, and how terribly un-British of me that is" Greg quipped.

"Well, I'm make you a cup then…" Mrs Hudson said as she put down the cloth and started to make her way to the kettle.

"No, no, leave it to me" Greg insisted as he cut her off. "Like I said, you need a break and someone should wait on you for a change."

"Oh, thank you. You're such a lovely young man" Mrs Hudson said with a warm smile, and she gave Greg's arm an affectionate squeeze before going to the living room.

Greg smiled to himself for a moment – it was rare he got paid such compliments, let alone told he was a young man – before he set about preparing the drinks. After pouring Mrs Hudson's tea and boiling the kettle for his coffee Greg had to decide if he was brave enough to root around for some biscuits or something when he knew he could very well stumble across a dismembered head from one of Sherlock's experiments.

Low and behold, when Greg opened the fridge out of mere curiosity he could not be surprised to find a jar full of various sized eye balls sitting right next to the jam. The DI rolled his own eyes and was about to close the door before he had a sudden thought; those might come in handy later…

Eventually Greg made his way into the lounge with tea for Mrs Hudson and coffee for himself. Mrs Hudson had made herself comfortable in John's chair so Greg sat in Sherlock's – he could see the younger man's look of distain right now.

"So, how does it rate?" Greg asked with a lopsided grin after Mrs Hudson took her first sip of tea.

"Very good in deed" she praised. "Just a drop of milk and you remembered I take sugar!"

"Ah, well I'm not as slow as Sherlock thinks I am, you see" Greg replied before taking a sip of own drink. "I only wish my wife gave me as much praise as you do."

"It is nice though" Mrs Hudson assured him. "Nobody has made tea for me since my husband and well…do you know the story about my husband? It's how I first met Sherlock."

Greg shook his head. "No I don't think so. Sherlock's never mentioned it, which is surprising since he just loves to share stories" he added sarcastically.

"Oh, well I won't bore you with it then" Mrs Hudson said with a flippant wave of her hand. "The boys always seem to get weary of my storytelling. I don't mean to ramble but sometimes it's just nice to have a chat."

Greg contemplated this for a moment before setting his coffee mug down on the table. "Yes, it is" he said "and that is exactly what we are having, a chat, and I am very intrigued to hear this story."

"Are you sure?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Absolutely! I love a good story me" Greg said with a smile. "I feel like I have so few of my own….I'm fascinated by other peoples'.

It was clear Mrs Hudson wasn't going to take much swaying. "Well, alright then!" she said enthusiastically.

Greg settled back and listened intently to Mrs Hudson's story about her drug dealing husband and Sherlock's eventual conviction of him. The DI had to admit it was a lot of a darker story than he had been prepared for, but had a potentially good outcome none the less. Greg was just glad to know Mrs Hudson seemed quite content with her life now and was enjoying his company.

They were interrupted later on when Sherlock dramatically burst through the door and flung his scarf down on the sofa.

"Oh, what are you doing here?" he asked, looking at Greg.

"Yeah I'm great thanks for asking" Greg said with a sarcastic smile and Sherlock just rolled his eyes. "I came to see you about the case but you were out so Mrs Hudson and I got talking."

"Well, how very quaint" Sherlock said with obvious disgust before heading into the kitchen and opening the fridge. Greg smirked to himself when the younger man started rummaging around frantically.

"Where are they!?" Sherlock demanded in a frenzy "Where are the eyeballs!?"

"I hid them" Greg replied; Mrs Hudson watched him curiously.

Sherlock stomped over to him. "Why they're not illegal," he insisted "give them back."

"I will on one condition" Greg said sweetly and Sherlock was glaring at him with utter detestation. "I think the kitchen floor could do with a good sweep, don't you, Mrs Hudson?"

Mrs Hudson smiled. "Well yes, that would be helpful, dear."

"Cleaning!?" Sherlock exclaimed incredulously. "You want me to clean! I have more important things to be doing, like solving cases for you for that matter! Well maybe I'll stop doing that and then we'll see who cracks first."

Greg just raised an eyebrow at him. "Brush is over there" he nodded. "Hop to it" he smiled and for a moment wondered if Sherlock might actually explode.

Instead, the younger man let out a highly frustrated growl before stamping over and taking the brush. Mrs Hudson couldn't help but laugh at the sight and Greg was also quite pleased with himself.

"Told you I could do it…" he whispered to Mrs Hudson.

Sherlock simply grumbled away as he worked the brush around the room.


	4. Mycroft

**A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the lovely reviews and for continuing to read this story, it's greatly appreciated x Greg talks to Mycroft this time, so I hope you enjoy! **

**(Warning: there is a reference to domestic abuse.)**

**Reviews would be lovely :) xx**

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**Mycroft**

Greg wondered around the elegant room tracing his hand along the grand wooden furniture and the slightly worn looking books, most of them probably first editions. Mycroft Holmes certainly didn't do things by half standards, and that included sending a car to whisk Greg away merely hours after returning from his holiday; his wife hadn't been happy about that of course, but when was she ever satisfied these days.

The DI wished he could say he was surprised to be contacted by the elder Holms brother so soon after his return , but there had been a niggling feeling in the back of his mind the whole time he'd been away that Sherlock and John would undoubtedly find themselves in trouble without him to aid them. Greg could only hope the bother they had found themselves in this time was easily fixed, although that was wishful thinking if Mycroft was getting involved.

After a few moments of waiting Mycroft finally decided to grace Greg with his presence. The DI always found himself standing a little straighter when the elder Holmes was around as he was very conscious of how Mycroft could read and perceive him; Greg knew he was a respectable professional and wanted to physically appear so.

Judging by the way Sherlock acted so snidely towards his brother, and John seemed very cautious of the mysterious man, not many people particularly liked or understood Mycroft Holmes. Greg, on the other hand, sympathised with his campaign to keep Sherlock safe as he too felt a certain parental responsibility sometimes towards the younger man. Mycroft did really care about his brother, Greg could tell, he just didn't have a completely orthodox way of showing it.

"Thank you for coming, Detective Inspector" Mycroft said as he indicated for Greg to take a seat before sitting himself.

"I didn't really have much choice" Greg mumbled as he made himself comfortable. "And if these meetings are going to become common occurrences then you should call me Greg."

"Of course, Gregory" Mycroft said, although without condescension, as he poured them a drink. Greg just huffed; he shouldn't be surprised by the man's 'properness'. "I know this seems a bit brash given the fact you just returned from holiday. I do hope it helped to aid the problems you and your wife are facing in your relationship. She is a rather fierce woman."

Greg was taken aback at the remark and frowned deeply; he didn't even want to think about why Mycroft thought that (knew that?). "She doesn't hit me if that's what you mean. Every married couple still has their differences but we want to make it work." He shook his head, not really sure why he was trying to defend the matter. "Anyway, you clearly didn't bring me here to discuss my relationship; I take it this is about Sherlock?"

"Yes, I'm afraid we would not ever meet if it were about anything other" Mycroft said quiet tiredly but with a hint of sadness as he took a sip of his drink.

"So what's he done this time?" Greg asked, preparing for the worst. "Blown up a hospital? Drugged his barber?"

Mycroft scoffed amusedly. "Does my brother look like he has a hair stylist?" he asked with a smirk and Greg shrugged with a slight chuckle. It was nice to see Mycroft smile for a change.

"No, it appears Sherlock and Doctor Watson have managed to infiltrate the labratoires at Baskerville." The elder Holmes explained in all seriousness.

"Baskerville?" Greg repeated with great confusion. "What the hell would they be doing there? I mean, you hear some stories but…I mean they are just stories?"

"My brother does not appear to think so" Mycroft stated. "He is using my identification card to get around the place and won't tell me what he's up to. He usually likes to brag….but he's kept this one very quiet."

"So you think he's in more danger than usual?" Greg asked.

"I can only assume so" Mycroft said and he looked distantly concerned for a moment; perhaps nobody else would notice, but Greg did. It seemed Sherlock had a similar hold over the both of them; he was a pain in the arse but damn did he cause worry.

"Do you want me to go down there and keep an eye on him?" Greg offered, although he suspected that was the purpose for Mycroft of brining him down here so quickly; the elder Holmes was in need of an inside man.

"If you would, I would be most grateful." Mycroft said. Greg took that is quite an admiration; he didn't think Mycroft gave his gratitude to many people. "I can have you leave within the hour."

"Alright then" Greg said with a firm nod.

He could still sense the elder Holmes' anxiousness; if there was one thing Greg could probably read better than either Holmes it was people's emotions. Being a detective most of his life, he was pretty good at telling the good ones from the bad ones and the liars from the trustworthy. Mycroft was trustworthy, and although it seemed quite well hidden sometimes he was also a good man; a big brother worried for his younger sibling.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of expressing concern" Greg spoke up and Mycroft looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows. "Feeling is what makes us human and not machines; it's not a weakness."

Mycroft sighed slightly. "Although I do appreciate the attempt of reassurance, Gregory, I am very strong in my belief that caring is not an advantage."

"What makes you say that?" Greg questioned.

"Well…" Mycroft started but then hesitated for a moment. He seemed surprised at himself for how he was just about to blurt out the DI something he'd probably not told anybody before. Clearly Greg had given off the right impression of trust.

"Come on, I promise I won't tell Sherlock; I won't tell _anyone"_ the DI encouraged.

Mycroft looked down at his drink rather intensely but began to speak none the less. "Having Sherlock as a younger brother can become quite weary sometimes as I'm sure you can imagine. I have spent my life in constant worry that every day could be his last and I wouldn't have been there to stop it from happening. It drains me, the fact that he will not listen, and so therefore caring is very disadvantageous. "

Greg considered this for a moment and knew he should choose his next words carefully. "Okay, well I certainly agree that even as a supposedly grown man Sherlock can be a bit of a handful, but you two are family and you should _want_ to protect your younger brother; it's a natural instinct, you don't have to try and hide it. You don't have to say it out loud if that's not the way you and Sherlock are but you can still express it in your own way. Don't ever feel ashamed or weak for loving you brother, Myc." The name just slipped out at the end but he was not corrected.

Mycroft -clearly perturbed by being spoken to so forwardly - got up and shoved his hands in his pockets before pacing around the room a little. He suddenly paused and turned to look at Greg with his serious expression back in place.

"There is only one man in the world who calls me the Iceman. I'm sure others think it but Moriarty…he brands me with it… I did not ever wish for Sherlock to think the same of me. He would never willing seek my help. However, I suppose it is safer for him to keep distance from me."

"I don't think that's true at all." Greg said confidently. "You are a good man, Mycroft, and I think you struggle to see that yourself sometimes. And I know Sherlock considers more highly of you than you think; I just know" he added when Mycroft opened his mouth in protest. "Caring may not be an advantage, but what happens when you're the one who stops being cared for?" Mycroft looked almost startled by the question. "Don't distance yourself from Sherlock or you'll regret it. I won't let that happen to either of you."

Greg could see the cogs twisting in Mycroft's mind after that and he didn't speak for a good five minutes. He kept looking at Greg, but the DI found he did not feel anywhere near as intimidated by the man's looks as he had when the conversation started.

"Thank you, Gregory" Mycroft said with great sincerity.

Greg gave him a small smile. "Don't mention it. Now, I suppose I better go and re-pack…"


	5. John

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thank you so much for continuing to read this story, it means alot x This is the last chapter before the 'plus 1 time' so I hope you enjoy! **

**I would love to hear from you! :)x**

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**John**

The last few months had been rough. Sherlock's funeral was almost a year ago and Greg had found since then he was practically buried in cases and for the first time he actually wished Sherlock was stood beside him babbling away about how stupid Greg was for not noticing certain things.

He also felt bad for neglecting a visit to John to see how he was doing. The poor guy had been a mess when they'd last spoke and Greg wanted to make sure he was coping okay. He was quite ashamed to think he hadn't seen John in almost two months when they had previously grown to be good friends.

John had said he needed some time alone and Greg was a bit dubious at first because he feared the doctor might do something stupid, but he knew he wouldn't because in all their minds there appeared to be that faint glimmer of hope that maybe Sherlock just wasn't dead, no matter how unlikely it seemed. John had told Greg he had asked Sherlock not to be dead, and maybe the doctor was living in the unexplainable hope his friend had heard him.

Finally, Greg found that he had time off one evening to go and visit John (without his wife moaning about how he was neglecting her too and that was more important) so after buying some bottles of beer he decided to give his friend a call.

"Hey! I was wondering if I could come over for a little while, I'd be providing the booze of course"

John seemed to hesitate for a few moments before answering. "Sure, but I…I don't live at Baker Street anymore" he confessed somewhat sadly but also with a hint of embarrassment.

"Really?" Greg said, genuinely surprised.

He supposed he'd always envisioned John sat in his chair reading the paper whilst Sherlock flew around with some daft experiment or another, but that was all irrelevant now.

"No matter, what's your new address?" He ran over what John told him a couple of times in his head before saying "Alright, see you in a bit."

About half an hour later Greg found himself standing outside John's new residence; it was certainly a lot bigger than his place at Baker Street and the DI briefly wondered how John could afford the place on his own; perhaps he'd gotten a pay rise or something.

Greg knocked on the door and waited patiently for John to answer. When he did, Greg immediately noticed how the younger man had bags under his eyes which looked like bruises and he seemed a little thinner than before; he wished he'd brought some food too now. John tried his best to smile at the DI but it was obviously faked, like the ones people give when others say they're 'sorry for your loss.'

"Hey, mate" Greg said with a rather apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry I haven't been to see you in a while…"

"It's okay" John interrupted before the DI started to ramble. "Like I said, I needed some time alone, and I've been busy myself…what with moving and everything."

"Yeah, you seem to have found a really nice place" Greg said as he looked around the exterior again "very…modern."

"Well it certainly isn't Baker Street" John said and then instantly seemed to regret it as he looked sad again. "Anyway, come in" he said stepping aside and letting Greg in.

As he was led through the house Greg noticed a few things – Sherlock had maybe helped him with a few more difficult cases but he still prided himself with observation. First there were the smaller shoes by the door, the crystal chandelier in the hallway and the whole pristine quality of the place. Then they were in the lounge and each sofa had a throw over the back and at least 3 different types of cushion.

"Make yourself comfortable" John said as he indicated to the arm chair. "I'll go and fetch the bottle opener."

Greg sat down and looked around with a knowing smile; oh yeah, a woman definitely lived here. Why would John not tell him? Surely he wasn't embarrassed….or maybe he even felt like he was betraying Sherlock for finding a new housemate. If that was the case Greg would have to put that straight right now.

John returned and as soon as the men had an open bottle of beer in their hand, Greg decided he was going to have to ask because John didn't seem like he was going to mention it otherwise.

"So, spill, who's the lucky lady?" he asked with a slightly teasing smile.

"Oh erm… her name's Mary" John said with a slightly sheepish smile, though he seemed less saddened than before just at the mention of the woman's name. "We met about 6 months ago, we've only lived together for two weeks…I know it might seem a bit quick –"

"Hey, I'm not going to judge" Greg assured him "If she makes you happy then that's great, I'm glad for you."

"Thanks" John said with another weak smile before looking down at the beer bottle and picking at the label.

It worried Greg because John use to be so sure of himself and he'd never been afraid to speak his mind, but now with Sherlock gone the doctor seemed a little introverted and had probably only said Greg could come around to be polite rather than in need of company.

"So, Mary, does she…help?" Greg asked tentatively.

"Yes, definitely" John said. "I don't know what I would do without her, but there are still some days when I…" he trailed off and hung his head again.

"I know; me too" Greg said solemnly.

He would never quite supress the feeling of guilt, and sometimes he thought it might consume him. He couldn't believe he'd let the doubt even begin to creep into his mind and he would always feel Sherlock's death was somewhat his fault.

"I suppose though, like Sherlock says, the game is on and it will never end" Greg said. "We just need people to carry on the side, for Sherlock, and those people are us."

John nodded before taking a sip of his drink. "I still have nightmares about it" he said distantly, looking across at the fireplace rather than at Greg. "I still see him fall, hear him say goodbye…" he let out a shaky breath and took another drink, much bigger than the last one.

"Well, you know – as cliché as it sounds - Sherlock is never really going to leave" Greg said "mainly because he's a stubborn git" he added lightly and John actually seemed to let out a hint of laughter. "It will get easier, John" Greg said in all seriousness. "Don't be afraid to move on with Mary. How could anyone ever forget the great Sherlock Holmes?" he added with a smile.

"Yes, that's very true" John conceded "he certainly left a lasting impression wherever he went" again, there was a whisper of a smile.

"Yeah and just remember that if you ever need to talk then you give me a call" Greg said seriously. "Promise me you will if things get a bit too hard.

"Promise" John said, though it pained Greg that he didn't know whether to believe him.

"Good. Now, let's get these drunk and then when I get home the missus might be a bit more bearable" he said jokingly as he handed John another beer. "To Sherlock" he said raising the bottle slightly.

"To Sherlock" John said and they tapped the bottles together.

The rest of the evening was spent exchanging stories about Sherlock – only the good times of course, the moments that had made them laugh. By the end of the night Greg was pleased to see that John appeared to be a lot more like his old self and it was good to see him smiling again.


	6. Greg

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! I'm sorry this chapter has been such a long wait but I've been really ill recently and haven't felt up to much. However, to make up for it here is a very long (perhaps too long) final chapter where Greg gets looked after. I hope you enjoy, and I once again apologise for issues with characterisation. There is also perhaps some implied Mystrade ;)  
**

* * *

**Greg**

Molly was writing a report on the latest victim when she heard the door open. She looked up to give Greg a welcoming smile but it soon slipped into a look of concern when she saw the state the DI seemed to be in. She'd had an inkling something was off when she'd last seen him a week ago; he'd been a little more closed off than usual. Now, Greg looked physically scathed; he had a deep cut running across his right cheek and looked more exhausted than Molly had ever remembered seeing him.

"Hey, what have you got for me?" he asked with a smile which was obviously a construct.

Although Molly suspected Greg had diverted his attention right to work because he wanted to avoid discussing whatever was bothering him she couldn't just leave him to suffer in silence. Greg had always been there for her when Sherlock was being particularly upsetting; she owed him for all the advice and comfort he had given her with no prompt or obligation.

"Are you alright?" she countered.

"Yeah, I'm fine" Greg replied with that same pain filled smile.

"Please, please don't do that" Molly said seriously as she approached him. "You know how it upsets me when Sherlock lies to me like that…I couldn't handle it if you started doing it too."

Greg sighed and rubbed a hand down his face wearily. "It's over" he said simply. "My wife and I are getting a divorce."

"Oh, oh I'm so sorry" Molly said as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the distraught DI. She wasn't sure what to say not having been in the situation herself, but she wouldn't let Greg believe that he was alone.

Greg actually felt a small smile creeping up for the first time in days as he returned the hug. "I'll be alright" he said much more convincingly than before. "You know me, tough as nails."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Molly asked as she pulled away.

Greg hesitated, but he remembered the conversation they had had about Sherlock and knew he could be open with Molly because she only ever wanted to help; he didn't want to make her feel shut out.

"She kicked me out three nights ago; I've been staying in a hotel." Greg confessed. "I knew she was cheating on me but she said it was because I cared more about work than spending time with her…maybe she was right, maybe I pushed her away."

"Don't make excuses for her." Molly said sternly. "And don't you feel guilty, she cheated on you and that's never the right answer." Greg still didn't look so sure. Molly would have guessed the stupid woman had left him doubting his self-worth and she was having none of that. "That cut needs checking, I'm going to call John" Molly said as means of an excuse, but really hoping the doctor could be a friend and get Greg to relax a bit.

"But what about the body?" Greg asked.

"He's not going anywhere" Molly quipped. "Besides, you look like you need to rest. I'm sure Sargent Donovan can handle it."

"But…" Greg tried to protest.

"No, no" Molly insisted firmly but with care as she picked up her phone. "You are not working today." She added sternly.

"Yes Ma'am, and here I was thinking you were such a sweet young thing" Greg said with an amused smile.

Molly smiled back "Sometimes you have to take charge when people you care about are involved."

* * *

John had gotten a cab to Bart's to meet Greg as soon as Molly had called. The DI had made the effort to come and comfort him when he was feeling worse for wear after Sherlock…but even though the younger Holmes was back now Greg still was someone he could vent to about his latest frustrations to. They had formed a good friendship over the years and now John was more than willing to return the favour.

Greg was leaning against the outside of the building with his eyes closed when John arrived; he would have looked quite peaceful if it hadn't been for the bags under his eyes and the cut running across his face. The first thing John did as he approached was analyse the severity of the wound, but it didn't seem infected or too deep which was a good sign.

Greg must have heard him approaching as he lazily opened one eye. "Alright, mate?" he said as he stood up straight and tried to look more alert than before.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" John countered. "Molly was brief on the phone but I got the general gist. I'm so sorry, mate."

"No offense, but I wish people would stop saying that" Greg replied but with little heart. "There's nothing that can be done, and I've seen this coming for a while now."

John gave his friend a sympathetic smile before deciding it was time to slip from friend John into Doctor Watson. "How did this happen?" he asked as he gently touched the side of Greg's face to examine the cut.

"She threw a plate at me and it shattered" Greg explained dully. "It's nothing, it just stings a bit."

"Well you're going to need a couple of stiches, but I can do that back at Baker Street" John claimed. "And have you slept and eaten enough the past few days?" he continued his examination.

"Probably a little less than I should have on both accounts" Greg confessed, although John suspected it was a bit of an understatement.

"Well you're not going back to a hotel tonight, you need to be around your friends" John said now switching to a solider giving his commands. "You can stay at with me and Sherlock at long as you need."

Greg once again mustered the whisperings of a smile. "Is that Doctor's orders?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so" John quipped, and that was that.

* * *

Sherlock was typing away at his computer when John walked in tailed by a very mopey looking Lestrade. John had text ahead to explain the arrangements and although Sherlock was not one for guests he saw no harm in letting the detective inspector stay for a few days – it could prove useful if any interesting cases came along.

"What are you up to?" John asked as he headed into the kitchen to make tea; Lestrade sat down on the sofa looking a little out of place.

"Nothing of interest" Sherlock replied. John had also forewarned him that if he did or said anything to upset Lestrade he might wake up to all his experiments in the garbage one morning.

"Since when do you do nothing of interest to you?" Lestrade piped up with a curious look.

"I didn't say it wasn't of interest to_ me_" Sherlock pointed out "I just feel it wouldn't be in the interest of you and John."

Lestrade gave an amused 'hmm' and then it was Sherlock's turn to be confused. As far as he was aware relationships falling apart were supposed to be a miserable time for at least a couple of weeks (that he would never understand either).

"Are you no longer sad?" Sherlock asked a little juvenilely though perhaps with a hint of hope.

"Sherlock…" John's voice floated in from the kitchen with a warning tone, but Lestrade still had a small smile on his face.

"Well, it's just nice to have you acting normal" Lestrade explained. "Not that I don't appreciate the concern" he referred to John "but I also appreciate Sherlock being Sherlock."

Sherlock processed this for a moment. He could never say out loud or physically express that he was in fact concerned for Lestrade like the DI had for him when he found him that alley all those years ago. Although according to Lestrade just being himself was comforting enough – just when Sherlock thought he'd learnt enough about emotion something new came along.

"I shall take that as a compliment" he decided. "It does seem a little pointless that you pay for a hotel room when we have a perfectly comfortable sofa for free. Stay as long as you require, but be warned you may need to start contributing to the rent" He added. "…and you can stop smiling now, it's off putting."

"Sorry" Lestrade said raising a hand, but still looking amused.

John returned the room with the tea, handing Lestrade a cup first and then heading over to Sherlock. He stole a glance at the taller man's laptop screen and saw a number of files pulled up which all contained information about Lestrade's wife. Sherlock quickly slammed his laptop shut and glared at John, who simply gave him a knowing smile.

* * *

When Mrs Hudson went upstairs to 221B the following morning she was startled to find Detective Inspector Lestrade fast asleep on the sofa but still looking a little worse for wear.

She quietly approached him and placed a delicate hand on his forehead, worried that he might be ill, but his temperature seemed fine and Greg shifted slightly under her touch. Deciding to let him continue to rest Mrs Hudson went into the kitchen and started pottering around preparing tea and toast for breakfast.

It was just as she placed the brewing pot on the table that a yawn sounded from the sitting room and she poked her head around to see Greg stretching as he sat up on the sofa.

"Good morning, dear" Mrs Hudson chirped.

Greg rubbed his eyes groggily and seemed to take a moment to register who had spoken.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs Hudson" Greg finally replied. "Do you need a hand with something?"

"No, you just stay there, dear" she cooed like a mother hen. "You don't look like you've slept at all."

"Mmm, I don't think I nodded off until the early hours" Greg confessed as he got up to stretch and then joined her in the kitchen. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing here..."

"Well I didn't want to bring it up but I did notice you've taken off your wedding ring." She said sympathetically. "You poor thing." After the horrific downfall of her own marriage Mrs Hudson liked to think she could lend an empathic ear.

"I see you've picked up a thing or two off Sherlock" Greg commented, clearly trying to divert the conversation away from himself.

"Take a seat, dear, and I'll make some coffee." Mrs Hudson instructed.

"Oh, you don't have..."

"Nonsense" she insisted as she ushered him into a chair and then set to work.

"Morning all" John said brightly when he joined them a few minutes later. "How did you sleep, Greg?"

"Not too good if I'm honest" Greg said as he rubbed his eyes again. "I just kept thinking about stuff..."

"Well what you need now is a good breakfast to keep you going. You didn't eat anything last night" John lightly reprehended him.

"Well we'll soon fix that" Mrs Hudson said sternly. "I think I have some eggs downstairs."

"Please don't make a fuss" Greg appealed.

"Sorry, mate" John said as he pulled on his jacket and picked up a price of toast. "You live in the mad house now." He beamed before heading put to work.

"Now, breakfast..." Mrs Hudson said brightly as she turned to the stove.

* * *

Mycroft Holmes arrived at 221B later that afternoon to find his brother shouting juvenilely at the inaccuracies of some crime drama on the TV, whilst the detective inspector beside him looked highly amused as he flicked through a case file. Surprisingly, it was Gregory who noted his arrival first rather than his overly observant brother.

"Hey, Mycroft" Greg beamed but it seemed stained.

"Good afternoon, Gregory" Mycroft replied as he took a seat in John's chair.

Sherlock scoffed "You really are going senile, who on earth is _Gregory_?"

Greg jabbed him a little less than playfully in the side. "How many times, that's my name!"

"Oh" Sherlock frowned. "Since when have you two been on a first name basis?"

"Since the detective inspector kindly volunteered to keep a watchful eye on you for me" Mycroft explained.

"I do not need a babysitter!" Sherlock huffed and folded his arms. "If you must know John is disallowing me to take cases today because I am the one who is babysitting" he said throwing a pointed look at Greg.

"I'm a big boy, Sherlock" Greg reminded him. "You don't have to stick around if you don't want to."

"Then I shall be in my room" Sherlock informed them. "This is far too much socialising for one day."

With that he stood up with a dramatic flair and marched out of the room. Mycroft and Greg shared a look of questioning before breaking out into smiles, however then the elder Holmes soon took on a more serious tone.

"I am aware of your current situation and may I offer my condolences for the ending of your relationship."

"Thanks…how did you know?" Greg asked with a frown.

"Surveillance" Mycroft responded. "People who are important to Sherlock are therefore important to me, though I assure you for entirely different reasons."

Greg was slightly taken aback by this. "Right erm…thanks again I think?"

Mycroft needlessly brushed down his trouser leg as he spoke again. "I understand this is a difficult time for you, and I wish to offer my assistance. I feel I owe it to you over all the help you have given me with Sherlock."

"Mycroft, you don't owe me anything" Greg tried to assure him. "Although he's frustrating as hell I've grown quite fond of Sherlock and I don't mind looking out for him."

"Nonetheless, I hope you will take me up on this offer. I did not wish for you to be left down and out after your divorce proceedings, so I found the best divorce lawyer I could to fight your case and will personally pay for his services."

Greg was speechless for a few moments. "Mycroft, you can't just…" he spluttered and then ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I suppose though very presumptuous it is a kind offer but I couldn't ask you to do that for me."

"Well it's a good job you didn't ask" Mycroft quipped. "Consider it, then. And perhaps we could meet up later in the week to…talk, as it were, and not necessarily about my brother's misdeeds."

"Oh, I didn't know you did such things?" Greg said.

"Then I suppose I am, as they say, full of surprises." Mycroft smirked and then stood, his ever present umbrella tapping on the ground slightly. "Now, I have a busy evening ahead of me so I shall depart. Do take care of yourself, Gregory."

"I will" Greg replied unsurely as he tried to process everything that had been said.

Mycroft left and Sherlock came barging back into the room just moments after. "Well, although that was prevalently dull it was also most odd" he announced.

"You were listening?" Greg asked, though he didn't know why he was so surprised. "What was odd about it?" he inquired instead.

"Well, Mycroft doesn't propose or offer to do such things for just anyone" Sherlock pondered. "It's quite sickening actually."

"What do you mean by _not just anyone_?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh come on, and John thinks _I_ am the clueless one when it comes to…_feelings._" He said the word with great disgust.

The detective flounced into the kitchen leaving Greg to his thoughts. Surely Mycroft hadn't meant…no…although? Greg couldn't restrain himself from smiling.

* * *

**I did really enjoy writing these stories, I just love Greg's character XD I have recently become a bit of a sucker for John/Greg friendship so maybe I'll write some, or If anyone has any fic recs that would be great. Otherwise, I am more than willing to take a look at any prompts that you guys have (I am also a big lover of Sherlock/Mycroft brotp as well in case you can't tell.) **

**Thank you so much for reading!**

**I would love to hear from you :) xx **


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